


What's the Story, Morning Glory?

by Miaou Jones (miaoujones)



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Conversations, Gen, POV Second Person, Undefined Relationship, it's not friendship but you can't tell me Blanca isn't fond of Ash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 02:17:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17034592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miaoujones/pseuds/Miaou%20Jones
Summary: "Why do you want a contract with me?"You give him the truth: "I'm interested in you."He hunches slightly as he shoves his hands deeper into his pockets and turns his head the other way. "Gross," he mutters, loud enough that you are definitely meant to hear it."Not in a sexual way," you say, careful to keep the smile out of your voice."Gross," he repeats, loud and clear.Or, Ash buys Blanca that dinner.





	What's the Story, Morning Glory?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aargle_Baargle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aargle_Baargle/gifts).



> I haven't read the manga or seen the final episode yet. I'm guessing there's not actually a place where this could fit in a canon timeline, but here it is anyhow...:3

"Dinner, huh?" Hands shoved into his front pockets, Ash gives you a sideways look. "This is not a date, though."

You smile. "No," you agree. You haven't missed it, what he's done with his hands. You suspect that's why he looked at you, to see if you caught it, to see what you made of it. You've taken it for exactly what it is: a test. A risky test, because if he's wrong and you're deceiving him, he will have no chance. Hands out and gun in easy reach, you think it would be even odds between the two of you, but hands in his pockets like this he'd never get to the gun stashed in the back of his waistband or the one strapped to his ankle in time. 

So you take this for what it is. A test. A risk. A leap of faith into trust. 

"You can't fuck me," he says, not bothering to look at you this time.

"I know." You smile again.

He glances at you. Scowls at your smile, which makes you want to smile more but which also makes you take the smile off your face. "Don't you want to?"

"No." It's not a real question, you know, but you're not sure what it is because it's not another test.

"Because you only fuck women," he says, and you think maybe it _is_ a test after all.

"Why do you think that?"

"What?" He looks at you sharply. "Because you told me that!"

He was a kid when you told him that; a child. You didn't know he remembered it. You say, in a tone as mild as the arch you've allowed your brow, "I told you I don't fuck boys. You're a man now."

He snorts. "I'm only seventeen. Still a minor."

You shrug. You could point out to him that the law sent him to an adult correctional facility not a juvenile one, but he knows that as well as you do. "You live like a man," you say.

He's quiet for a few steps. Then he says, and you know it's more to himself than to you but you listen anyhow to the words he says and the ones he doesn't, "I wonder..."

You're both quiet for a few more steps. Then he says, "So then, what is this?"

"A nice dinner," you say.

"Blanca." There's a warning tone to his voice. You decide you like it, but you don't show him that. You don't show him anything; you wait patiently for him to continue. "Why do you want a contract with me?"

You heed his tone and give him the truth: "I'm interested in you."

He hunches slightly as he shoves his hands deeper into his pockets and turns his head the other way. "Gross," he mutters, loud enough that you are definitely meant to hear it.

Since he's not looking, you allow yourself to smile. You are well aware that you smile too much around him; Ash may suspect so already, but he can't be sure and you'd prefer to keep it that way, for now at least. "Not in a sexual way," you say, careful to keep the smile out of your voice.

"Gross," he repeats, loud and clear.

You want to laugh but you know if you do, he'll think you're laughing at him. You would never laugh at him but the only way to make him believe that is never to do it. "It's gross for anyone to take an interest in you?"

"Yes." He's still not looking at you, but he's not turned the opposite way anymore, facing forward now.

"What about Eiji?"

"What about him?" Ash's tone is neutral. Oh so carefully neutral.

Maybe you should take that as an unspoken warning to be careful yourself, but you tread onwards. "He's interested in you. Is that gross?"

"It would be, if it were true." There's something awful in the way Ash says that. Like he honestly believes it. More than believes it; like he honestly feels that way. You kind of don't want him to go on. You don't say anything. "But it's not true," Ash says, gaze fixed forward. 

"Then what's the story, morning glory?" You haven't called him that in a long time. You didn't mean to call him that now, but the words just came out. You better watch yourself.

If the words bother Ash, if he even remembers that you used to call him Morning Glory on occasion, he doesn't let it show. "He's... I don't know." Ash shrugs. "I don't know."

Ash might not know, but you do. Eiji is not like anyone Ash has ever met. There might not be anything objectively special about him, but he's beyond special to Ash. He's the one, even if Ash doesn't know what that means. Even if Ash doesn't know what to do about it, Eiji is his one.

You want to cry. You really want to fucking cry, which is something you haven't wanted in a long time and haven't done for even longer. _Fuck_. Ash asked the right question, asking you what you thought you were going to get out of this. You don't know anymore. You thought you knew, but...

"Here," you say, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk.

Ash comes to a stop too, looks around, looks at you. "What?"

"Dinner." You point to a food truck parked at the curb, steam wafting out the open window, carrying the aromas of Mexican seasonings and sautéed meats. 

He looks from your extended fingers to the food truck back to your face. "You want me to buy you a street taco?" He doesn't bother disguising his incredulity.

So you don't bother hiding your smile. "Who doesn't like a street taco?"

He sighs and takes his hands out of his pockets as he walks up to the order window. "You're still a strange one," he says without looking at you.

 _You're stranger,_ you want to say but don't. 

When he glances at you now, you smile at him. He shakes his head and flips you off and steps aside to wait for the tacos, and you go over to stand beside him. 

For as long as you can, you'll stand beside him.


End file.
